I can't explain why
by LadyPooh
Summary: "To this day I still can't explain why." CHAPTER 2 IS NOW UP!
1. Chapter 1

To this day I still can't explain why I didn't go for it. Why I just didn't get up the courage to tell him how I felt. Why I didn't just be who everyone wanted me to be instead of the scared and insecure Tori that I really am. Maybe that's one of the reasons I love him so much; he challenged me to be better than what I really am. He thought I was special, and sweet and straight out amazing though if you really took a closer look I was far from that. Now he's over there; arm draped around her as if she was the most important thing in the world and if you look to his far left you can see the distressed boy with the black curly hair and bad-mannered puppet. The awkward teen probably feels the same way I do, wishes that for one second he could have someone else's personality just so that he could get what he really wanted. So now were here the two of us; Robbie and I pretending to be happy with one another smiling fake smiles and laughing when we both find nothing funny. He loves Cat while I love Andre. Yet, we can have neither because their taken with each other. Did anyone expect that? No, not really. The buff musician with the bipolar redhead no one ever saw that coming. But it happened in a very sweet way in fact. He sang a song just for her and with each lyric my heart broke slowly and painfully, not quick and swift like I had wanted. I found comfort in the young man who had found comfort in myself and his puppet. My eyes get red and puffy as I think of Cat being with Andre and vice versa. I walk away from my friends and the boy I pretend to love who pretends to love me just the same. It's finally over for me, pretending to love and be the glittery girl is over. Why? Because to this day I still can't explain why I didn't go for it.


	2. Chapter 2

He rings my doorbell constantly now. Calls my phone leaving messages wondering what's wrong. The thing is, it just makes it worse. It makes me love how he cares and makes me feel guilty for acting as if he doesn't matter to me; even though he's the only thing that does anymore. It' s horrible staying quiet in class, only wearing sweatpants and baggy shirts because I stay in bed wishing that the wonderful dream of us being together would come back even for only a second. So as I sit here drinking a mixture of sweet and salty hot chocolate: salty from tears. I reminisce about the times I used to be happy when he stopped by or left messages on the once actively used slap page. I end up falling asleep hours later, the television still running the empty glass in my hand. I miss him dearly but know that's he's happy with her and that I should suck it up and be happy for him even if it is the hardest thing for me to. I answer the phone call for the first times and weeks and before I can tell him not to he invites himself over. To my surprise when I open the wooden door instead of a happy hi I receive a kiss. A sweet one filled with passion and love and happiness and a bittersweet sprinkle of heartbreak. I compose myself quickly when we part and open my eyes. He's gone. Or maybe considering it was just a depressing, pitiful dream he was never really there to begin with. I swore that after everything I'd been through with boys I'd just leave it, him, alone. I couldn't. I never really could when I was somewhat close to pleased with my life before. My head was always on his shoulder, and the bench connected to the piano was never chilly or cold because Andre was always there singing some song. Back then I just knew those songs where for me. Maybe he was just acting when we sang that song at the fancy restaurant; just putting on a show. Maybe he was just being a good friend when writing "Begging on your knees" for me. Maybe it was just my imagination getting the best of me. Maybe it still is. I know if you asked anyone back then they'd say we were a match made in heaven. The two of us _just _destined to meet and fall in love and be even better than Beckett and Jade. But all those lovesick fools and people who believe in cupid would've of been wrong. Or if I had just been "perfect Tori" for one second they could've been right.


End file.
